Harry sat up in his cot in Ron's room at the Burrow. His face and back were drenched in a cold sweat. He rubbed gently at the scar on his forehead that still ached. Harry was worried about that, his scar had only hurt like this once before when he was in the presence of Lord Voldemort.

Mr. Weasley had gotten the tickets for the Quidditch World Cup through a friend at work. He had offered to get ones for Sirius and Remus, but being so close to the full moon, Remus didn't think he would be up to it. Sirius wanted to make sure his friend was okay, so was staying behind as well. Harry was excited to attend his first professional Quidditch match, even if his guardians weren't coming with him. Hermione would be joining them later that week to go to the match too. Though Quidditch was not really her favorite thing, Hermione could not pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Hermione wasn't the only one coming in for the game. Bill, the oldest Weasley child was coming all the way from Egypt. He was supposed to arrive the day before the match.
Harry climbed out of bed and padded down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen, not wanting to wake Ron up. He found some parchment and quill and scratched out a letter to his godfather.

Dear Sirius,
I hope you and Remus are doing okay after the full moon. How was it? I had a weird sort of dream last night. I woke up with my scar hurting. That’s only ever happened once before when You-Know-Who was there. He can't be anywhere here now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward?
Harry

He folded it up and placed Sirius name on the front.
Harry had come to visit the Weasley because of the full moon. Remus didn't want Harry around during his transformation. Harry could understand his friend's unease with his presence, having seen it once. Snape made Remus the Wolfsbane Potion, but for everyone's peace of mind Harry came to the Burrow early.

On the second piece of parchment, he started another letter this one to Professor Snape. Harry wasn't sure how to write this letter. It was even harder to write than the first one. Harry didn't want to worry his teacher but the man always made it clear if Harry needed someone to talk to he was available. Harry rubbed the quill on his chin trying to figure out what to write.

Dear Professor Snape,
I hope you're having a good summer. Last night I had a weird sort of dream. I woke up with my scar still hurting. It's weird since the only time that's happened was when I faced Quirrell.
I'm okay. I'm at the Burrow because of Remus' transformation. We're going to the Quidditch Cup at the end of the week. I'm really excited. This is my first time seeing a professional Quidditch match.
Harry

He frowned as he read his letter through once more. He wasn't sure if he should send this to his professor. Professor Snape had always looked out for Harry, but that was before Harry had his godfather. Then again, the man had stopped Harry on his way down to the train to tell him if he needed anything this summer, even if it was only someone sane to play chess with, not to be afraid to reach out. Harry wasn't sure what he meant by that, or why he thought Sirius might not take care of him.
There was a creak on the stairs as someone else came down them. Harry looked up to see Mrs. Weasley still dressed in a fuzzy pink bathrobe. She smiled at Harry.

"Good morning dear, you're up early. Did you sleep alright? Ron's snoring didn't wake you did it?" She asked as she started pulling out pans and ingredients for breakfast.

"No, I slept fine. Ron's snoring isn't as bad as Neville's. I just err... Had.... Err would it be okay if I borrowed Errol?" Harry asked nervously.

"What about Hedwig dear," she asked, not exactly as no, but a way to get more information.

"Er...I need to send two letters," Harry hesitated.

"Is everything alright dear?" She asked Harry could tell her overprotective mother-side was starting to show.

"No...Yes... I'm fine...I just wanted to see how Remus was doing after the full moon."

"You don't have to owl for that you could Floo call Sirius anytime you like," Molly said sitting down with a cup of coffee.
Harry shook his head. "I don't want to bother them."

"And the second owl?" Mrs. Weasley pressed.

"Oh...uhhh... The Dursleys."

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows disappeared into her fiery red hair. "Your Muggle family? I didn't think you got on from what Ron and the twins have to say."

Harry shrugged, "I just feel like they should know I'm alive and doing okay with Sirius."

"That's very sweet of you if that's the case," Mrs. Weasley said taking a sip of coffee. "Of course, you may use Errol, Harry dear."

"Thanks," Harry said folding up the second letter.

"Use Errol for your letter to Sirius, Remus lives much closer than the Muggles," Mrs. Weasley requested as she went back to bustling about making breakfast.

Harry nodded and secured each letter to the appropriate owl. He watched as they disappeared into the horizon. He had no idea how long it would take for either of them to respond, he hoped it was soon.

Harry pushed aside his worries as the as faded and they played a pickup game of Quidditch out in the apple orchard. It wasn't as nice as flying out at Remus' house where there was no one around for miles but it was always good to be in the air.
There were some advantages to being at the Burrow. He didn’t have to worry about Sirius having swapped the sugar in his tea for salt or disappearing half his socks, forcing him to wear mismatching socks.

The next few days were passed playing Quidditch and discussing who was going to win. The match was between Ireland and Bulgaria. England had done embarrassingly badly in the early matches. Bill argued through most of dinner about which had a better team. Fred and George said Ireland, but they did like Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker.

Hedwig returned as they were just shuffling off to bed.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked as Harry anxiously opened his letter.

"It's fine," he reassured her.

He hung back on the bottom floor so he could read his letter in peace. He didn't want her asking questions about why he was writing letters to the surly Potions instructor. Harry wasn't sure what he expected it to say. He was pretty sure it wasn't like this.

Potter,
You dolt. Inform me the instant this happens again. Do not use your owl, she is too easily recognized.
SS

Harry read through the letter once more. The professor started off by insulting him, that was never good. Harry didn't know exactly what he did to deserve it though.

Sirius' own letter arrived the next morning, before dawn.

Harry,
I don't think you should worry too much about it. We've had a bit of a talk with Dumbledore. He wants to know if it happens again. Have fun at the match,
Sirius

Harry read the letter in the early morning light as they walked up the hill. They had to walk a few miles so they could catch a Portkey to where the match was being held. They were met by another Ministry employee and his son. They all knew the teen, Cedric Diggory. The twins still hadn't forgiven him for beating the Gryffindor team in Quidditch last year.

Harry discovered he didn't care for the sensation of using a Portkey, like a hook pulling you by the navel. So far, the only way Harry liked traveling was on his broom. It's too bad he wasn't able to do that everywhere.

The Dursleys never went camping, they hated nature, so why would they? That meant Harry had never been camping, even if he had, it would not have prepared him for this trip. Mr. Weasley borrowed a tent from the other wizard in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Though it looked like a normal Muggle family tent, it three rooms, a stove, and multiple sets of bunk beds. Harry could forgive for smelling of cats for these comforts, not that Mr. Weasley wanted to use them. He insisted on doing things the Muggle way that took three times as long and would have taken longer if Hermione wasn't an experienced camper.

Harry and Ron were sent to get water and ran across a number of people they went to school with, including Seamus and Dean. Oliver Wood stopped them, introducing Harry to his father and let Harry known he had been picked to play professionally for Puddlemere United. They also ran across the Lovegoods.

Luna had been outside collecting some sort of root to make tea. Ron had done their best to avoid her, he thought she was weird. Luna and her father lived a little ways away from the Burrow and would occasionally visit the Weasleys for dinner.

Harry told Ron about his encountered with Luna last year. Ron looked at him as he too was mad. Why would he believe Harry there were invisible horses that pulled the carriages? Harry didn't want to at first, it was only running into Luna that convinced him he wasn't crazy.

The night before the match was filled with excitement. The Irish fans were celebrating raucously. The Ministry officials in duty had to make sure no magic was been by the Muggles. When the Muggles did notice anything they would have to perform memory charms to make them forget their questions.

The match itself was wonderful. Mr. Weasley's friend that got him the tickets, Ludo Bagman, was a retired professional Beater who once even played for the English national team, and was the commentator for the match. The tickets he gave Mr. Weasley were for the skybox, premier seating, with the two countries Prime Ministers and other high-ranking officials, Percy's boss, Mr. Crouch being one of them. They never saw Mr. Crouch during the match, but his house-elf, Winky, was there holding his seat. Harry wished he had, then it would have been him, not Draco Malfoy sitting behind him.

The game which could have gone on weeks if no one managed to catch the Snitch was short in comparison. Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker caught the Snitch within the first several hours. But it wasn't enough to save the match for his team, Ireland was too far ahead. The twins did win their very handsome bet with Mr. Bagman though.

They all walked back to the tent to excited into sleep. Even if they wanted to, there was no way to, not with the noise coming from the victorious Irish fans. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys stayed up late reliving the game until Ginny collapsed into her cup of hot cocoa. They woke up to screaming a few hours later.

"Oh, those Irish," George complained grabbing his coat and sliding it over his pajamas.

Harry rubbed his own eyes, his glasses on askew.

"Dad," Bill sticking his head out the door.

"What is it, Bill?" Mr. Weasley said coming to stand beside his oldest child.

People were running by the tent, screaming. They could see smoke rising from a nearby tent. The campground host and his family were suspended in the air. The wife spun upside down silently screaming.

"I need to go help," Mr. Weasley said grabbing his wand.

"We'll come with you," Bill said.

Mr. Weasley nodded, "You lot, go into the woods. Stay together.
We'll come and get you when it's safe."

The six of them that were underage headed into the forest trying to find a safe place to wait. They lost Ron and Ginny in the confusion. Harry tripped painfully over a clump of roots. It was at that point they thought to use Lumos to light the end of their wands. Harry patted his pockets trying to locate his wand, it was missing.

A green cloud appeared in the sky above to crowd, it took the shape of a skull and snake. People suddenly appeared all around them, Stunning Spells electrifying the air. Harry narrowly missed being hit by one.

Mr. Crouch demanded to know about who cast the spell. None of them knew it sounded like a man from behind the bushes. He disappeared behind them to investigate, but returned only with his Stunned house elf. Hermione was horrified to see the man fire her, even after all four of the children who heard the spell cast assured him that there was no way it was a house elf who did it. Harry was horrified to learn that his stolen wand was the one to cast the mark of Voldemort.

Mr. Weasley was able to use his Ministry connections to get them back to the Burrow early the next morning. Sirius and Remus were already there waiting when Harry and the others arrived back. They barely let him say goodbye Apparating back to Remus' house.

Sirius pulled his godson into a tight hug before demanding,

"What the Hell happened?"

"I don't know," Harry said sleepily.

"The Dark Mark was cast over the site?" Sirius demanded.
Harry frowned.

"You've seen the pictures, Padfoot, you know it was." Remus handing his friend a cup of tea. Maybe that would calm the man's nerves, at least.

Sirius ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"What's the Dark Mark?" Harry asked sipping his own tea.

"It was what Death Eaters would leave at the locations of their attacks," Remus explained calmly.

"Mr. Crouch was really upset by it, more than any of the other people," Harry told them.

"He would be," Sirius grumbled. "He'd know all about who would cast that."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"His son was a Death Eater, one of the worst," Sirius said slamming his mug onto the table.

"Is that why he was so mad to see it? He accused me of casting it," Harry informed his guardians.

"He never did have any sense," Sirius snapped. "Of course, that's why he was angry. His idiot son ruined his chance to be Minister of Magic"

"Harry," Remus said drawing them all back to the present. "We are going to have to be very careful in the future. If Death Eaters are willing to come out and commit these sorts of attacks, there is nothing say they will not do worse. And with Sybil's prophecy..."

"You think Voldemort is coming back soon?" Harry asked.

"It is possible. We need to be prepared," Remus told him honestly.

"Okay," Harry reluctantly agreed. He let out a loud yawn and was promptly sent back upstairs for a nap. He woke several hours to the sound of raised voices, Sirius and Professor Snape.

Harry shoved his glasses back on and rushed downstairs. He didn't want them to start cursing each other in Remus' kitchen if he could help it.

"How dare you, you slimy git?" Sirius yelled at Snape.

"Hit a little too close to home, Black?" Snape jabbed back his wand in his hand.

"Stop it!" Harry demanded, bursting into the room.

"Potter, polite as ever," Snape remarked as he lowered his wand.

Sirius did the same. "Snape wanted to speak to you. The git wouldn't listen when we said you were asleep."

"That's not what you said," Snape refuted.

"Sirius, Severus," Remus pleaded.

Snape nodded to the werewolf, it took another long moment before the Animagus did the same.

"Now that you are awake Potter, we must have a word," Snape said gesturing toward the table.

"Right now?" asked Harry.

"You may not realize this, Potter, but the world does not revolve around you. Other people have things they need to accomplish." Snape said snidely.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I know that. That's why I figured you might need to do those things."

Snape shook his head, "No, the Headmaster thought it was best to have this conversation as soon as possible, and I would tend to agree."

"Is this about what happened at the match?" Harry asked.

"In part, it also reflects what happened in the spring and Pettigrew's escape," Snape elaborated.

"Oh," Harry said as he looked down at his twinned fingers on the table top.

"If Trelawney was correct in her prediction, the Dark Lord will return sometime in the future with the assistance of Pettigrew. It is impossible for us to know exactly when. We must be prepared for it."

"That's what Remus said," Harry said.

"Yes, well the wolf does some sort of sense," Snape admitted.

"Don't call him that," Harry chastised.

"My apologies," Snape said, not totally insincere. "Potter, if the Death Eaters are willing to make such a public display at a high-profile event, such as the World Cup, they must be hearing things." The man rubbed uncomfortably at his covered wrist.

Harry frowned watching the action. The boy had never seen the Potion Master look so uncomfortable. The usually stoic face was clearly frustrated.

"So what does this mean?" Harry asked.

"It is unclear. It is probable I will have to... In the future, I may not be as available to you." Snape said.

Harry shook his head, "I don't understand."

"For both our safety, Harry, I will have to distance myself," Snape explained. "It would not be good for certain individuals to know of our relationship."

"Like Malfoy?" Harry suggested.

"Yes," Snape confirmed, "but there will be others."

"Who?"

"No other students know of this yet," Snape began.

"I won't tell," Harry promised.

"I wouldn't care if you did, Potter. I simply think you must have all the perennate information. The school will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. There will be students and teachers from two other schools in the castle much of the year. We must be careful around them," Snape explained.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"We simply must," Snape said exasperatedly.

"Is it because they're foreign?"

"No," Snape said rolling his eyes. "It is because there is no way to know if the Dark Lord has already infiltrated these schools."

"Okay," Harry agreed reluctantly.

Snape nodded, "I will see you September first, Potter."

"Yes sir," Harry said getting to his feet.

Snape did so as well, "Be sure to inform me if you have another of this dreams that make your scar ache."

"Yes sir," Harry did again. He walked the man out of the house and into the backyard.

Harry spent the rest of his holiday at home working on his neglected summer homework. Remus made sure it was completed to a satisfactory level, not rushed through like what Ron and many others seemed to turn in.

Before they knew it was already September first. Sirius pushed Harry's cart for him as they walked through King's Cross Station. It was great having people with him to see him off that would actually miss him when he was gone, he'd never had that with the Dursleys. Little things like that still caught him off guard sometimes. Harry grinned up at Remus who walked beside him. This was going to be his best year ever at Hogwarts, he was certain, nevermind what Snape said about having to watch out for Death Eaters and all that. He had a family, or at least something close to it. It was his, not just hanging on like what he did at the Dursleys, or even the Weasleys.

Sirius ran full speed at the pillar that led to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, barely looking to see if any Muggles were watching.

Remus shook his head, "Somethings never change."

Harry and Remus casually leaned against the barrier before tipping onto their destination platform. The Hogwarts Express fiery red engine gleamed in the sun. The platform was placed with families saying goodbye to their children. Owls hooted in their cages, voices raised causing the commotion of friends seeing each other for the first time in months.

Remus and Harry caught up with Sirius halfway down the train. He was talking to Mr. Weasley. The luggage trolley was already empty, so he must have already picked a compartment for Harry. He didn't mind at all.

It felt strange, to him. He was excited to start his fourth year at Hogwarts, but he was sad too. He had finally settled into a pattern at home. He would miss seeing Remus in the morning as he made breakfast for everyone. Harry chose to make them, not because he had to, but he wanted to, unlike at the Dursleys when Aunt Petunia woke him every morning by banging on his door to get him started on everyone's meals. He would miss talking the latest Quidditch standings with Sirius. It was all so normal.

Now he was heading off back to school, a year that promised to more dangerous from the start if Professor Snape was to be believed. Harry had never gone wrong trusting the man's judgment but he wondered if Sirius wasn't concerned as the Potions Master. Maybe, it was just their contempt for each other that prevented them from agreeing. Harry just knew he needed them both in his life.

"Ahhh...Harry, there you are," Mr. Weasley said clapping Harry on the shoulder.

Harry smiled at him.

"Sirius was just telling me about your last week back at home. He said you tried your hand at the Wronski Feint," Mr. Weasley said with a chuckle.

"I thought Moony might go into heart failure," Sirius said with his great bark of a laugh.

"Yes, yes, laugh it up at my expense," Remus rolling his eyes.

"I don't know what could be so funny," an old, but surprisingly strong voice said coming up behind them.

The laughter stopped in an instant.

"Augusta," Remus said stepping forward and offering his hand.

"Lupin," she greeted placing her claw-like hand in his rough one.

She glared at Sirius, "Black."

"Hey Neville," Harry greeted his friend.
"Hey," he replied as they watched the tense interaction between their guardians.

"What's up with your gran?" Harry asked.

Neville shrugged.

"Augusta, I was so sorry to hear about what happened to Frank and Alice," Sirius said sadly.

Mrs. Longbottom continued to glare at Sirius. "It was at the hands of your cousin and husband you know. It would have been better if they'd killed them."

The train whistle blared.

"Come on you lot, let's get you settled on the train," Mr. Weasley said redirecting the attention to the boys standing by quietly. It only took a moment for them to get the two of them loaded on the train in Hermione's preselected compartment. Mrs. Weasley made sure to give Harry a hug and kiss just like any of her own children before he boarded the train. The train pulled away from the platform like it did every year exactly at eleven o'clock. Harry waved to his family as the train began to move until they vanished from view turning the first corner.

Harry sank back down the bench across from Neville. Hermione had pulled out a ball of yarn and a set of Muggle knitting needles.

Harry raised a curious eyebrow,"What's with those?"

"You'll see," she said as her only response.

Neville shrugged, the quiet boy, was more so than usual.

"What's wrong, Neville?" Harry asked.

The other boy only shrugged.

"What did your gran mean when she was talking with Sirius?" Harry asked.

Neville looked away from the window and to Harry for the first time.

Harry tried again, "What did she mean, 'it would have been better if she killed them'?"

Neville looked back out the window.

"Your parents aren't dead," Hermione asked, looking up from her stitches.

Neville shook his head. There was a long moment's silence before he spoke again.

"They...they were tortured... Tortured with an Unforgivable Curse...until they lost their sanity..." Neville said shakily. He hastily wiped the tear that threatened to fall from his eye.

"Oh Neville, I'm so sorry," Hermione said sadly.

"Thanks," Neville whispered.

In the three years they had known each other the boy had never mentioned his parents. Harry always thought they must have died like his own parents, in the war against Voldemort. He was wrong. That must have been so much worse, to have your parents alive and unable to take care of you.

"Where are they?" Hermione asked.

"Hospital," Neville muttered wiping away another tear, "London, Permanent Spell Damage Ward."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

Neville shrugged the silence in the small chamber heavy, only to be broken by the door sliding open once more.

"Anything from the trolley dears," the old witch asked.

Hermione and Neville shook their heads. Harry stepped forward his money bag in hand and picked a wide selection of snacks put out to the other two. Harry handed her a handful of gold without much thought. Since he had found out he was a wizard Harry always had more than enough pocket money. He always got more when he went to Gringotts. But when he moved in with Sirius, his godfather, he had even more. It was possibly more money had ever before. It was a nice kind of strange.
The three of them ate in silence until the door opened once again.

"Hi," Harry and Neville greeted as Fred and George came into the carriage.

"Hello you three," George said sitting down next to Neville and helping himself to a cauldron cake.

"Any better idea what Percy was on about during the Quidditch World Cup?" Harry asked as he passed Fred a pumpkin pasty.

Fred shook his head. "The silly prat wants us to ask, but then he won't tell us anything."

"We gave it up, after a week of the git doing that," George added.

"I might have an idea," Harry said between bites of a chocolate frog.

"What?" Everyone asked excitedly.

Harry shrugged uncertainty. "I don't know exactly, Professor Snape said something about the Triwizard Tournament. He said there would be foreigners around the school. And he's worried..." But Harry shook his head.

Harry refused to continue. Hermione watched him trying to figure something out. The weather got colder and darker the further the north they went. Much of the rest of the trip was filled with games of Exploding Snap and talk of why there might be guests at the school and what it could mean for them.
Harry was hoping that for once he could have a normal school year. He just wanted to be able to enjoy whatever it was like everyone else. He knew Professor Snape wanted him to be vigilant about their guests. The professor and Sirius didn't agree on much, but they were both concerned about Harry's strange dreams that made his scar ache. They only disagreed on how concerned they were. Professor Snape wanted to know the instance Harry had another of those dreams. Sirius had a discussion with Professor Dumbledore about it, but they hadn't said any more about it to Harry.

The rain picked up as the train slowed into the station in Hogsmeade. Harry hurried behind Neville and Hermione as they ran for one of the thestral drawn carriages out front. Harry had never asked his friends if they could see the creatures too. He hoped they couldn't.

This was the first year Harry was able to see the Sorting since his own four years ago. He was surprised to learn the Sorting Hat wrote a new song every year. Neville liked the one from their second year best, but this year's was okay.

The question on why there would be visitors in the castle was answered as soon as Professor Dumbledore rose to address the student body. Hogwarts was to play host to the Triwizard Tournament this year, for the first time in a hundred years. The other schools would arrive the day before Halloween. Each school would put students forward to represent them and have one champion selected by an impartial judge.

Harry was relieved no one could make him participate because this year the submission were to be voluntary. Even if he wanted to compete, wouldn't be allowed, the champion was to be of age, seventeen years old at least. It sounded like it would be fun to watch and cheer on the Hogwarts champion, whoever it was. The only thing that upset Harry about it all was there would be no Quidditch this year. It was a good thing Oliver graduated last year, his head might have exploded at that bit of news if he had been present.

Dinner appeared as usual on the golden plates before them, everyone tucking happily into their dinners, (except Hermione who was not eating in solidarity with the house elf cooks) until the doors to the Great Hall banged open. The oddest looking man Harry had ever seen limped into the room and up to the teachers' dais. Harry and the rest of the student body watch him with great curiosity.

The man, Alastor Moody, was a retired Auror, dark wizard catcher, according to the Weasley twins. He was a bit mad but was great at his job. That was probably half the reason he was so crazy, you can only spend so long with people trying to kill you all the time before becoming paranoid.

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of Moody's, magical eye. It was large, electric blue, and probably three times bigger than his natural one. It zoomed all around the socket before always returning to Harry. He wasn't the only one it returned to he noticed, but Professor Snape as well. The look of disdain on the Potions Master's face was normally reserved for Harry's godfather. Harry had to wonder if the two had a personal history, or if Moody hated all those that were once associated with the Death Eaters. He would have to wait and see.

Harry sleepily followed his fellow Gryffindors up the stair to their house Common Room and then their circular dormitory. The talk the entire way up was filled with excited talk of the Triwizard Tournament, who the possible champion might be, and what they might do with the thousand Gallon prize. Harry listened to Ron animatedly discuss how he would spend his winnings on a new broom, followed by at least it seemed to Harry, upgrading everything he owned.

Harry fell asleep wondering who would be the champion and what this year might bring them. He smiled in his sleep that he would never have to worry about the tasks and being scolded for taking unnecessary risks by Professor Snape because he wouldn't be taking part.